No Laughing Matter
by mouthcreature
Summary: When the Green Flu ravages their campus, its up to two college students and a handful of survivors to make it out of Philadelphia before the worst can happen. Will they make it out of the city and into safety or will they too succumb to the infection ravaging the city? ((First Fanfic! There are no relations to any canon characters except for special infected. Critique welcome!))
1. Chapter 1: Nerds

**Author's notes: AUGH. So. Welcome! This isn't a fic. that features any of the characters from the series, save for the special infected. I know it features fan-characters, but bear with me on this! It'll be ok I swear. **

**I wrote it more as a companion piece for a character I've been extensively roleplaying. There are a whole lot of mistakes that I've just corrected and I just found an editor so that should at least become less of a problem as we go along here! Chapters will be longer, I really do not like how goddamn short they are thus far. Feedback is appreciated as I'd love to know how I can improve. **

**I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I do writing it. **

**- BonBon**

* * *

"What did one cell say to his sister cell when she stepped in his toe?"

"Roger, Can it wait?" The young woman muttered setting the textbook down and fixing her gray eyes onto the figure of the scrawny male before her. "I kinda want to get going with the studying here?" She pouted clearly getting extremely tired of his antics."The test is like…monday."

"No! No, I swear you'll like this one Beth. " The dorky blond in the Darwin t-shirt said, adjusting his glasses and sitting up in his chair. "Like its funny! I swear it is." He gestured wildly with his hands as he spoke as if he had to place emphasis on every little word he said.

"Ok," Beth said with a sigh, smoothing her reddish brown hair back behind her ears. Considering the light sandy roots that were coming in at her scalp the auburn colour was not natural by any means. "What did the cell say to her sister?" She asked, and bit her lip in preparation for Roger's inevitable corny answer, hands playing with the strings of her oversized hunter green University hoodie. The guy could never take anything seriously, but he was the only go to guy on campus if you needed last minute tutoring in anything from Biology to obscure literature from like the 17th century.

He grinned like an idiot before spouting off the answer "Mitosis!" Beth groaned and put her head in her hands, trying so hard not to laugh. She didn't want to encourage him. "So you get it right, 'ca-" She interrupted him before he could finish, lifting her head up to look at him with an exasperated expression "I get it because cell division yadda, yadda, yadda…can we move on here? I'd love to get this over with so I can go…"

She didn't actually hate him, she just felt uncomfortable around him. It was a conflicted sort of feeling actually. Not exactly hate but not exactly like. Beth had known him for two years now, she thought she'd be used to his brand of energy and weirdness but the truth was she was far from…that tolerant of him. He was just really nice, a little too nice half the time. She often wondered if he was like secretly creeping around campus spying in like the woman's dorm windows. He was a bit too chivalrous in a day and age where most guys were complete douchebags, He had to have an ulterior motive. There was no other alternative here.

"Oh, oh right..I'm sorry." He cleared his throat to indicate he was back on task and picked up the cola can beside him quietly sipping the contents before setting it back down with a light clink. "What term were we on?" he then asked and she was glad that they were finally resuming. She glanced at her paper and squinted, "Somatotype?" she read tapping her slippered foot against the floor. Roger kinda sat and twiddled his thumbs, his body slowly receding into the chair. "Ah," Roger said in understanding and grinned, "thats a classification for physique and body type. " he said cheerfully as Beth scoffed in reply, "I got that but I can't remember the actual types themselves... it's insanely difficult." The subject of biological anthropology was not her strong suit, she hated the fact the class was part of her studies. Why did the hardest things need to be mandatory?

"I'm surprised," mused Roger, "it's not hard if you use the people around you as a kinda stepping stone." he motioned to himself, " I'm an ectomorph," he giggled, "you can tell because I'm thin as a fucking rail and look like I haven't eaten a sandwich in a few days, Ectomorphs are built for endurance based sports like…cross country for example." She knew he was trying hard to simplify it for her and for that she was grateful. He continued, "Uh an ectomorph is slender and has a difficult time gaining weight." Beth mad a dismissive noise at his words, "Geeze, I wish I were an ectomorph." she muttered, grinningly slightly at her attempt at self deprecation. It was true she had a lot of curves, people liked to point it out in as rude a manner as was possible.

"You look fine," Roger said, his tone quite defensive, or so she assumed. She was sort of set out to loathe him so who knew how he truly meant it. Beth merely frowned, 'god he's such a creep' she thought, glowering at him from underneath her wavy mess of hair. He continued his little encouraging body positive spiel "I mean you are fairly typical for an mesomorphic female, you gain weight easy, but you also lose weight quickly so in truth… " his habit of gesturing as he talked really, really bothered her. "you are really quite normal!" good! He finally finished his mini-rant. Beth closed the textbook with a thud, "Is that the next term?" She muttered curtly, glaring at him from across the couch. "Err, yeah. Yeah it is…with the uh." he replied, glancing at the clock, "somatotypes." he muttered. Things got a bit awkward in the silence that followed.

Beth decided it was time to leave. She didn't like how that conversation went at all. Too much, too creepy, even if he meant well. Getting up she placed her textbook back into her backpack and gave a curt nod toward Roger as he stared up at her dumbly. "I'll be back later, I got things to do" she uttered trying to make the tone of contempt in her voice abundantly clear to the nerdy guy in the armchair. "Er, Yeah yeah!" he responded grinning, "Shoot me an email! I'm available most times."

She waved him off, rolling her eyes as she left the mostly barren rec. room. God almighty you had to have the patience of fucking iron to deal with Roger for more then five minutes.

* * *

Roger sat by himself completely and utterly confused. Social interaction was a bit hard for him but he managed well enough to at least function. It wasn't that he was bad at it, it was just that his wavelength was different from everyone else's save for his few close friends and family. When it came to people like Bethany, his wave never flowed with her's, it went in the opposite direction. He was aware she disliked him, he just didn't understand why. He always assumed it may have been about his breath, or maybe his joke? It didn't really matter to him the reason though, he was content just being himself. If other people didn't like it, it wasn't really up to him to decide for them! All he wanted to do was help people out if they needed it, Run around on the track, nerd out about comic books, and play around in the campus labs with his friends Leo and Tim. He didn't really ask for much in life.

Besides when it came to girls he had absolutely zero interest. Her behavior just served to completely perplex him and nothing more. Watching her back as she left he began to wonder if there was a biological reason for her cold behavior. Maybe a slight change in brain chemistry brought on by the stress of her classes, that his immature joking certainly did not help, caused some sort of…behavioral fluctuation?

Pssh, Nah, It wasn't up to him to think about things like that. He was a biologist, not a psychologist. He got up from the chair and picked up his heavy blue backpack from off the floor. Damn, He needed to empty it every once and awhile, it wasn't healthy to carry so much shit in one bag. Checking the clock, and adjusting his glasses he made his way to the glass door leading out onto the school's hallway. According to his schedule he had one more tutoring session and he was done.

Roger passed by a student mingling in the hall, barely paying attention to the man his arm just slightly brushed against his, but it seemed to be enough to knock him forward a little. "Oops! My bad!" he said, throwing his hands in front of him to show he meant no harm. The student turned to look at roger, skin pale, and almost gray in colour and eyes bloodshot as if he'd been hitting a joint recently. There was a distinct layer of sweat on the dude's face that glimmered when the artificial light from the hall way beamed down on it that indicated the guy was a little bit more then merely high.

Roger's eyes widened with immediate concern. "Oh…shit dude, you look like crap." said Roger sympathetically, motioning down the hall. "The nurse is down there! I don't know…How much help that would be." Roger drew his arms closer to himself and shrugged. The student said nothing in reply, just opening his mouth as if he meant too. "Look, I can help you get the-" A flood of black vomit seemed to stream from the student's mouth splashing upon the floor and staining Roger's red converses with a splattering of the stuff. Roger immediately backed off, a primal fear running up through his spine and causing his heart to beat frantically in his chest.

That wasn't normal. That was so far from normal.

The man let out a weird gargled growl and it was then that Roger knew it was best to leave. Flinging his backpack to the ground, he took off running as fast as he could.

Like fucking hell was he going to look back.


	2. Chapter 2: Rabid Ferocity

Roger had absolutely no idea as to why he ran.

The guy was obviously in need of desperate medical attention. Vomit was not supposed to be black. Hematemesis was a very, very serious problem. He knew that meant that guy was bleeding internally and that meant a number of things from fucking Ebola, to Yellow Fever. Then why hadn't Roger stayed to help him? Why had he run? He stopped in his tracks and stared at the distance he had managed to put between him and that guy. Everything was a mess in his head, and he was finding it hard to think rationally in his panic. That was a problem he tended to have. Once he could calm down he was usually fine. He hoped that was soon.

Roger knew something was wrong though, and deep down his gut feeling did too. The guy DID growl at him after all. He guessed he could've been delirious, 'I mean, if I were that sick…I'd be a little grumpy too' he thought to himself, leaning his thin frame again one of the walls. It then hit him as stray thoughts often did when you just got done running from some critically ill dude for absolutely no reason. "Aww man, I left my backpack with him…." Roger muttered in defeat, "That has my dorm key in it." He stood still biting his lip and placed a hand behind his head, while running the fingers of his other hand through his hair. This was an odd situation.

Significantly calmed after the little incident, he began contemplating what would be the consequences should he decide to run right back to the guy he just left vomiting in the hallways. "The dude was just sick after all, I mean…" No, said that little nagging inner voice, there was something else. 'You said it yourself vomit was not supposed to be black' he thought, rubbing his hands down his face. "…. Shit, if it's like…. Ebola or something." There was a chance for infection. That wasn't something he had thought about. Panic began to spread through him like fire, infection! Shit, That was a possibility! "Oh my god, what is happening?" he found him self muttering as he grasped at straws to figure out where to go from here.

He hadn't expected to come to his answer to the dilemma so quickly. It was unusual for Roger to be this impulsive, unless it was you know…to tell a stupid joke. Roger prided himself in careful practicality. This kind of went against that aspect of his personality. Despite the man's apparent horrible affliction and the very obvious risk of infection, Roger knew he had to help…. or at the very least grab his backpack and get the fuck out of there. Something needed to be done; maybe it as well ought to have been him doing it. Letting out a sigh of silent resolve he made his way back. At least, should he reach his backpack, he could get his cellphone out and call 911. Now, that was a positive thought!

Turns out that guy never left. He was still milling about as soon as Roger arrived on the scene. That was good…he guessed. He approached slowly and cautiously trying not to upset the poor dude but that didn't stop the sick guy from snapping his head up suddenly to look at Roger like a wolf would glower at a sheep before sinking his teeth in. Roger backed off. Just a few minutes before that guy barely paid any sort of attention to him…why the sudden change in demeanor? This sent fear unlike anything he ever felt before rumbling through his spine, especially when he noticed the man's eyes. Oh hell, that was not human.

Not even thinking, he looked to his backpack and back to the ill man and made a grab for it.

The man rushed as well, screaming at the top of his lungs like some monstrosity out of hell and lunged for Roger's bare arm, or his throat he couldn't tell which. Jerking back, Roger managed to completely avoid the man's gnashing teeth and instead brought his backpack down on the man's head, stunning him enough to at least back away and covering the front of it with fresh blood as the books within its confines met the man's head with a loud crunch, splitting the skin wide open. It was convenient that he carried many heavy textbooks with him at all times after all.

The man staggered as Roger stepped quickly backwards, barely managing to avoid the puddle of sick the dude had barfed up before. "DUDE, WHAT THE HELL?" Roger managed to scream out, quickly looking away to see if there was anyone else around. The guy recovered from the blow, but his head was slightly dented in which only served to fuel Roger's fear further, as well as this thing's inhuman fury. The guy let out another piercing scream before lunging once more teeth gnashing out of anger. Realizing the seriousness of what was happening before him, and the fact he was completely alone, Roger once more took off running down the hall.

This time his backpack stayed with him.

* * *

Beth yawned and turned to her friend, a girl about a year younger then herself with short,bobbed,black hair and a round face. Leaning again the post that led to the entrance of the biology hall she began to voice her concerns about what had transpired during her tutoring session, "I mean shit, I'm just…ugh, I go for tutoring not to be hit on by weird guys with dorky glasses." Beth reached into her pocket and pulled out a hair ribbon, quietly tying her wavy hair back in order to get it out of her eyes. Her friend merely shrugged and resumed sipping the ice tea she held tentatively with one hand, "I really don't think he's as bad as you think he is," She finally said in response pulling the straw away from her puckered lips and fixing her watery brown eyes upon Beth. "You are like, Sooo obsessed with him."

Beth did not like hearing that. In fact Beth didn't like what she was implying at all. She did not have an obsession with him, he just bothered her for reasons she couldn't quite vocalize. "It's not like that ANNE." She whined, glaring at the short girl in the yellow summer dress as if she had just uttered an insult against her mother. Anne merely gave Beth a look to show her that she had been teasing, "Yeah, Yeah, I heard the spiel before." Words that shut Beth up before she could go on her tangent. Anne really knew how to grind her gears in the worst ways. The fact she didn't trust Roger as far as she could throw him did not equal anything other then her mild contempt of the dork.

Changing the subject to avoid further teasing, Beth decided to settle on a current event that had been invading the news. "So, Uh, You hear about the flu going around? " she motioned with one hand at a CEDA poster that was displayed on the wall outside of the building warning about it. It was urging people to wash their hands, but knowing half the people here that was like asking a dog to suddenly act like a cat. Anne sipped her tea again and nodded before pulling away from the almost empty cup to respond. "Yeah, I totally did. I think Sammy caught it." Beth raised an eyebrow, "Samantha Hardwell?" Anne nodded in response to her inquiry. "How do you figure that?" Beth muttered turning her gaze to the exterior campus. There was an awful lot of people milling around on campus for a Saturday. "I heard her throwing up this morning while I was in the restroom." Anne replied.

At this Beth merely scoffed, ignoring whatever had her focus before, "You know how she's been boning Tommy Fink." Her gaze returned to Anne, "How do you know she hasn't knocked herself up?" The short girl merely shrugged and tossed her tea into a nearby trashcan. "I don't know what it could be, I don't think I care." Beth removed herself from the post she'd been leaning on and turned toward the biology building. Eh, diseases, smeishes. She figured it wasn't important. Sam's problems weren't her own, and she wasn't in the mood for gossip. "I don't think I care either, bitch is kinda skanky anyway." She dismissed the conversation with a wave of her hand. Anne giggled.

It was then at that moment that Roger came bursting through the doors as if that was a normal thing to do. Beth only barely managed to avoid the door as he ran out past them. What fucking nerve.

At first all her brain could think of was how amazed she was at at how fast he ran, but then she remembered he was on the track team and that was more or less what he did. Recovering from her shock she turned and glared at his retreating back, yelling at the top of her lungs "WHATS YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM?" At this Roger stopped in his tracks in the grass and turned around merely gesturing wildly with his hands as he tried to spit it out as coherently as possible.

Anne glanced at Beth with some look of concern before looking back at the door herself. "Well?" demanded Beth, motioning to the door. "You almost bashed my goddamn head in!" She hadn't noticed how flustered he looked. His hair was a mess, and his shoes covered in muck. He usually kept his t-shirt firmly tucked in his pants but now the edge of it had popped out and draped over one of the pockets of his jeans. Roger looked down to the ground before fixing his disheveled glasses. It was then that he finally managed to answer her.

"I don't know what it is I saw, but something happened." He lifted his backpack, and that's when she saw the blood that stained the cover. Confused she looked him over. It was clear he wasn't hurt. "Where did that come from?" She asked as Anne let out a concerned whimper. Roger had no answer, he didn't have time for one, because a look of fear spread on his face and he quickly pointed behind her.

There was her answer.

It happened in a second, She heard a monstrous squeal and heard Anne scream. She turned only to find her friend being attacked by a gray coloured man, his head bleeding from a large dented gash in his skull. Anne was trying in vain to push him off her but he quickly overpowered her. He had her tight in his grip, his teeth tearing and gnashing at her throat like a rabid animal. Spurts of crimson splattered the man's mouth, and dark gray dress shirt and hit the floor creating a small puddle at his feet. Anne's frantic screams turned into horrid gurgles as life slowly began to leave her small frame, her hands stopped fighting him as more blood pooled around them. The yellow of her summer dress turned a horrid shade of dark orange and it was then that it became apparent. She was dying.

Not even thinking, she watched as Roger rushed forward raising his bag over his head with what strength there was in his scrawny arms and began to beat the ever living shit out of the man. The…thing, man, creature whatever released Anne but by then Roger's actions had come a bit too late. Anne's body twitched and shuddered one last time before falling onto the pavement with a wet thud. Beth didn't know what to do. Her own body felt numb with confusion, shock, and utter horror. She froze like a deer in the headlights and watched as Roger mercilessly dropped the man who had attacked her friend. Beating his head in until it was nothing more then a splattered mess of skull and brain on the pavement. All she could do was remain frozen and watch.

What the hell did she just witness?


	3. Chapter 3: Old Fashioned Nightmare

Beth's hand slowly reached up and covered her mouth, stifling a scream. Tears flowed freely through her ducts, streaming down her cheeks almost like a waterfall. Her friend, her best friend, Anne and…. what, what had Roger just done? He just straight up MURDERED a man in cold blood. Granted the guy had just tore out the throat of her best friend, but oh god. Her mind was jumbled; she had no idea what the hell to think. Everything just clashed together into random streams of fear and agony. 'Oh god what the fuck just happened? Oh holy shit, Roger was a creep. He just killed a guy. Oh, Oh my god, what the hell is going on?'

Roger threw his backpack to the side, his chest heaving rapidly like a frightened rabbit. His blue t-shirt was splattered with bright red blood, as were his hands. Beth watched as he absentmindedly rubbed his blond hair out of his face, streaking it with the blood shit. It made him look very ghoulish. "So…. uh, " He gasped, looking at her from beneath his stained glasses adjusting them slightly before bending over and placing his hands on his knees. "A frog telephones a psychic hotline…." He stammered, looking at the two bodies before him, Beth wondered what the fuck could possibly be going through his head if he thought this was the appropriate time to joke.

"His personal psychic adviser tells him, "You are going to meet a beautiful young girl who will want to know everything about you."" She heard him swallow; Beth stifled her cries once more, "Oh Roger, Now is not the fucking time." But he continued as if nothing had happened, ignoring her pleas to knock the shit. "The frog is thrilled, "This is great! Will I meet her at a party?" Beth looked away, god she didn't want to look at Roger. This was wrong. Just incredibly fucking wrong. She retreated into her thoughts; the only words in her mind were 'This was no laughing matter Roger, Why couldn't you just have waited?' There was a time and a place for it, now was neither the time nor the place.

The people that she had noticed on the campus all seemed to be looking at them now, something seemed off, but the trauma just wouldn't allow her to really notice that. There were more of them then had been there before, but the current circumstances seemed more important. There was going to be a punch line on the horizon.

Roger finished his joke. ""No," says his adviser, "in her biology class.""

That was so stupid. Like really, really fucking dumb.

Beth let out a strained high-pitched laugh, and Roger joined her with his own exasperated giggle over his dumb joke that seemed to get a little too loud. The noise seemed to attract the attention of the people that had collected toward the front of the building, some even climbing the gates to get a look at what was happening. There was a growing collected growl that turned into an aggressive cacophony of shrieks and snarls and the crowds that had gathered surged forth. Without even thinking, she grabbed Roger, placed her hands on his back, ripped open the door, and threw him into the school.

It took him a bit to get the gist of what she had done, but as soon as he realized it he took off like a bat out of hell and she quickly followed suit. The screaming writhing mass of people went after them, pounding down the door as it shut on them. It didn't take them long to tear it off its hinges and moving in fast pursuit once they got past the minor obstacle, surging into the interior like water through a floodgate. Beth didn't want to consider the implications of this. Everyone seemed to have just decided to go completely bonkers in one go. The screaming got louder.

All that was important was the movement of her feet. There was no time to think. It became clear they both had to get out of here somehow, and to safety or at least to a place where they could gather their wits. She hadn't noticed that she had lost sight of Roger until she hit the end of the hallway and found herself cornered. She turned just in time to see animalistic eyes turned toward her, filled with vile rage. The persons, or rather creatures there was no way she could call them human anymore had their faces smeared with black shit, sweat, and blood, their uncoordinated fingers reaching and grabbing for her. Beth shivered and covered her eyes. She knew this was the end. They were going to get her.

Suddenly she felt someone yank the hood of her jacket causing her to scream and she was inevitably pulled into a classroom by none other then Roger. He smiled awkwardly and then turned his attention to the door. He motioned to the wood teacher's desk, and Beth immediately got the gist of what he was hinting at. They had barely anytime to move it when the human creature things began trying to breakdown and tear through the door. She wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline, or something else, but her and Roger managed to pick that desk up right quick and shove it front of the door. That seemed to buy them some time.

Roger braced himself against the door as if that would help. Beth decided to join him mostly because she had no idea what else to do and frankly they seemed quite fucked anyway. The creatures snarled and slammed. Their fingers trying to grasp them through the holes they had smashed through the door.

"So." Gasped Beth, "What do we do now?"

Roger's frown indicated he had no idea. He fixed his glasses before turning his attention to the windows. "Out." Was all he managed to gasp. "Out?!" replied Beth in exasperation. "Yes, out." Reiterated Roger, "That's the only way, please trust me on this." She had no choice but too.

"We are on the first floor, it'll be cake ok?" He said trying to keep her calm. Whatever he was doing was helping; she figured it was just how calmly he said shit that helped settle her nerves. Roger slowly moved away from the door. Beth whimpered and followed suit. The desk thankfully was staying put. "Oh good, it just has a simple little screen." He mused cheerfully, unlatching the window and sliding it up. "I can just kick that out no problem." Beth looked to the door, and tried not to scream as she saw the desk budge. "Can't you look for a latch or something instead?' she squeaked, keeping one eye on the door. The desk scraped loudly followed by a sharp bang. They were getting in. She let out a quick scream.

"There is clearly no time for that Beth." He responded giving the screen a few quick kicks before it gave out. It landed softly on the grass below. He stuck his head out first. She was sure he was checking to see if it was clear. He poked his head back in and nodded motioning for her to come forward. Once she had, He took her hand and helped her get out first. Her feet hit the grass first and she took a quick look around. There wasn't much of anything. That was good.

She heard Roger land beside her just as the door they had slightly barricaded finally gave way. The creatures inside shrieked in frustration unsure of where their quarry had gone and she heard them scrambling around as if searching for them.

They were lucky, immensely lucky. Knowing they couldn't stay considering one of the monsters had noticed the open window and was now trying to flail its way out of it, she raced off ahead with Roger very close behind her. They ran off straight across the campus and toward the gate that lead out to the rest of the city.

She wasn't sure how long they would last, but she knew they had to keep running.

* * *

Everything was quiet.

The streets were surprisingly empty considering the bullshit that just occurred back at the school. He and Beth had run as far as they could before eventually tiring out. They weren't sure how many of these things were out there, he wasn't sure of a great many things. Trying to at least calm himself down he attempted to speak to Beth. There was nothing like a conversation to reestablish normality after a life-changing event such as this.

"Well…" said Roger trying his best to break the tension, "That was exciting huh?" Beth didn't respond. She merely walked ahead, her head hung low. Roger felt guilty. "I'm sorry about your friend." He said sympathetically, "I wish I had done something sooner." She made no verbal response instead just waving her hand to dismiss him. He understood that it was probably best to leave her alone for now.

His thoughts returned to the incident at school. What did just happen? There was nothing he could rationalize at the moment other then it had been viral, and acted very much like rabies with a few notable differences. Rabies? That took days, weeks, to get to that particular stage and was always extremely fatal. These people didn't seem disorientated, or really moved like a rabies infectee would. Though at first the dude Roger had encountered seemed disoriented, he remembered he lacked the muscle spasms and partial paralysis typical of rabies. The black vomit also indicated it was something else too. Something also to note, Roger considered, was the fact that something seemed to go off inside them like a bomb that made them make an aggressive beeline straight for you. That didn't normally occur with rabies in humans. Oh dear, everything was jumbled.

They passed an abandoned Shop-mart. Everything was eery without people and he found himself shuddering.

Rabies in humans didn't exactly work like people thought it did. People always confused the actions of a rabid dog with a rabid person. The symptoms always manifested differently between species but people never seemed to understand that. He'd try to explain it but no, people insisted that when people got rabies they acted like zombies. He knew how the media was always sensationalizing things and…oh great he was going off on a mental tangent.

Ugh, why was he trying to rationalize it. His brain was too tired, if he tried to think too hard about it he'd come to the wrong conclusion, but that was the right conclusion wasn't it? Zombies. He remembered his friend Leo. Leo never shut up about zombies. He played all the games, read everything to know about them, and watched every movie. He wondered what he was doing now in this situation. He was probably fairing pretty ok.

Oh my god, zombies. The thought hit him again full on like a semi-truck. Even worse? CEDA had been warning them about this shit for days now. Everyone ignored the warning, as people seemed to like to do. To them it was just another flu. That was the wrong thing to do and just like them he had been completely guilty of it. He guessed they should have been warning them that this fucking disease created zombies. He supposed they didn't want to cause a panic. A little to late for that now huh? His mind made yet another mental flip just like it had before when he first ran away from the infected man. Oh god, He hoped he wasn't fucking infected.

He had the blood all over him.

He stopped and found a vendor's cart, abandoned just like the street currently was and grabbed a large water bottle. Popping open the lid he quickly tried to wash the blood off his hands and off his face and hair. It was fucking freezing as hell but it was better then being covered with that shit. He was lucky it didn't get in his eyes, or mouth, and that he didn't have any open cuts. Not wanting to be a complete asshole, he grabbed a few dollars from one of his jean's pockets and left the cash on top of the counter. He felt fine as far as his health went, just startled. He wasn't sure how long it took for whatever was happening to spread. He supposed it had been long enough, if it was as fast as it seemed in order to infect an entire herd of people, he was sure he would have been vomiting up black shit and trying to kill Beth by now.

"Bio-hazard level four fucking shit right here." He found himself blurting out while capping the now empty water bottle. Beth stopped in her tracks, luckily she hadn't gone far, and turned facing him biting her lip. She looked as if she had been crying, and her tone of voice as she questioned him indicated that indeed she had been. "Now is not the time for that shit, shut up." She spat, crossing her arms, hugging them to herself in an attempt to keep her temper in check. "I'm not making a joke." He whispered trying to diffuse the situation before she got angrier, "I'm just saying." Beth lifted a hand to push her bangs out of her eyes. "What are you trying to say then?" she demanded. "It's a…code, for bio-safety levels of containment." He motioned to the side to emphasis his point but accidentally released the empty water bottle. It landed on the street with a light clatter and rolled under a car. They both stared at it before refocusing their attentions on the current conversation. "I think what's happening is like a disease." He finished saying, while messing with his wet hair out of nervousness which only served to give him a more shaggy unkempt appearance then he already had. Beth nodded her head and grinned sarcastically, "Oh yes! That's wonderful, we are all going to die anyway…even better, BY ZOMBIES." She whirled around and stamped a foot, balling her hands into fists and let them swing steadily by her side. It seemed she had come to the same conclusion he had.

Roger didn't want to upset her any more, so he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut for the time being.

They resumed their steady pace.

It was a long time before any of them spoke. "Where should we go..?" she asked, her tone sounded tired,defeated, and most of all apologetic. He understood how she felt only because he felt the same way. He opened his mouth to speak "There are likely evacuation points." She nodded at his words, "is that why the streets kind of empty?" she asked looking over her shoulder toward him. He nodded himself and responded "Yeah. Makes sense."He didn't want to think about where else they could have gone.

It was then that he could hear the sounds of moaning and screeching not to far ahead of them.

He seriously hoped they didn't have that far to walk.


	4. Chapter 4: Fish Out of Water

"Can you put that thing OUT, Fisk?"

The older black gentleman waved the smoke out of his face, his lips curling back in pure displeasure.

The thin, tall, black-haired and sallow skinned man dressed in a store clerk's outfit said nothing; all he did was merely smile a yellow-toothed grin as he blew another puff in the direction of the aged man's face. "Fuck you man, it's the apocalypse." Fisk finally snarled, putting the cigarette back toward his lips and taking a puff. "I think I'm entitled to it." Each word Fisk said released some of that vile bitter smoke further into the air. If he was miserable, everyone else was going to be. Even kind old black dudes.

The older gentlemen stood back and gave him an incredulous look, placing his hand on his hip, and the other up, pointing a finger and gesturing as if lecturing a child. "Apocalypse or not, we all got to breathe the air here." The man reached down and took the cigarette from between his lips, held it up to Fisk's face and shook it, sending a bit of ash floating to the floor near one of his white sneakers. "Smoking kills you know." Fisk merely glared at him; he didn't need to be lectured by fucking Uncle Ben here.

He watched as the old man threw the cigarette on the floor and stomped it out with his heel.

"Right, thank you for that interesting lecture Jerald, it's not like I was AWARE or anything." He growled. He sat firmly on the ground, leaning against the side of a parked car while Jerald paced steadily in front of him and eventually wandering off to talk to one of the coordinator's of this shindig. This fucking evacuation point was a useless waste of time. They were all fucked anyway. Things were happening- major things and Fisk had other plans that didn't involve standing here waiting for the inevitable. He certainly didn't want to die dressed in that red cashier outfit and retarded green apron. He also didn't want to die with this sorry bunch of buzz kills. Dying in general was a terrible idea.

He and the group he was with had been there ever since the first person decided to up and lose their shit and try to eat everyone. In fact Jerald, the old guy, had been Fisk's hundredth something customer of the day when CEDA up and evacuated the joint just as the teeth started gnashing. They had been loafing around this dumb checkpoint for what felt like days with Jerald trying to make friends with everyone he met. The group started with just him and the old fart, but soon grew to consist of Leo, a nerd who wouldn't shut up about zombies, and Tessa, a middle-aged woman in a business suit who looked like she'd been rode hard and put away wet. Fisk thought she smelled like cat piss. It was awfully embarrassing.

Fisk couldn't see the point in Jerald being so friendly anyway. Being friendly in these situations meant being attached, which meant it would totally suck if you died, which you were going too. That was why he only ever gave anyone his last name and had removed his shop-mart name tag from his shirt. First names were for dead people. Fisk had seen the movies. He knew what to expect. He was not planning on dying quite yet.

God, He could use another smoke.

Digging in his back pocket he attempted to fish out his cigarettes. Slowly he removed the pack and looked over, eyes trailing over the surgeon general's warning before he flipped it open. He grimaced. Damn, he hadn't noticed how low he was. There was only about four remaining in the pack, and absolutely no chance at anymore for the time being. He gently smacked his head against the car door out of frustration. Oh. Lovely. Stuck with a bunch of assholes and no cancer sticks. 'Just beautiful.' He thought as he closed his eyes, quietly listening to the conversations from their little happy fun time friend-ship that Jerald set sail. He kind of hoped he found himself on the wrong end of one of them crazy ass zombie folk soon.

He wasn't sure if he could take this anymore.

His eyes fluttered open again just as a fat dumpy kid with gelled spikey hair and a zombie themed sweatshirt decided too occupy his space alongside him. "Hey!" the potato-esqe college kid chirped with enthusiasm, his eyes looking over Fisk as if he may, just maybe, have a chocolate bar on his person. Fisk looked up and prayed to whatever deity seemed best before responding. "Can I assist you…whatever your name is…?" he drawled in his heavy Philly accent, letting out a rough cough before turning to look over at the intruder. Might as well try to deal with this with some dignity.

"It's Leo!" McLardass said beaming widely from ear to ear. Fisk knew his name, He didn't need a reminder, and he simply just did not care. Leo continued yammering, "So are you doing ok? I heard like the reports" Ok…somewhat tolerable, "Its so INTENSE isn't it?" Yes he supposed so, "ACTUAL ZOMBIES" No shit Sherlock. He rolled his eyes as Leo kept on talking about current events. He tuned him out easily until something about Fisk himself popped out of the boy's mouth.

"Oh! You have gauges!"

He disliked the personal nature of the conversation. Why did what he did with his own ears matter to this jabbering ape? He was thirty years old. He was a big boy, and he did big boy things like minor body modification. "I like your gauges, whoa I'm glad they aren't like freakishly big!" Shut up, "I was thinking of doing that myself but" No seriously, shut up." I TOTALLY could not deal with the pain." Oh my god he would not shut up, "Black looks awesome though! " Fisk was done with this conversation, his patience already worn thin enough as it was from just sitting there. "Did you consider other colours, or was black just your thing?"

Fisk reached up to cover his ears, hiding his choice in jewelry away from Leo's prying eyes before giving the dumb fucker a dirty look. "You know, I don't care." He snapped, "Go play in traffic or something, or better yet! Why don't you go find a zombie to fuck with since you think they are so cool." Fisk spat on the ground, dropping his hands from his ears and looked toward the crowd, averting his eyes away from the blubbery figure of Leo.

If he couldn't see the problem, it wasn't there.

Leo backed off instantly and muttered dejectedly " You could be at least a little more friendly." He heard Leo slink against the car, his head hitting it with a thunk. Fisk winced at the noise, "Kid, I'm going to be honest. I'm not interested in chatting with you." He looked over and poked Leo roughly. "I don't talk to fat fucks." He pulled his hand away after landing that verbal blow and continued watching the crowd.

Leo made a slight noise as he tried to speak up in his defense, however Fisk couldn't hear what Leo was going to say, as Tessa decided to butt in. She stood nearby, arms crossed, her straight blond hair hanging loosely around her face. "You really could be just a little more friendly dear." She said curtly, her ruby red lips curled up in a sneer, "We are all miserable standing here, no need to make it worse." Fisk said nothing; all he did was lift up one hand and flip the bird at the old bat. She scoffed mortified by his gesture, as people of her age often were. She was not taking it in stride. "You IGNORANT piece of TRASH." She charged forward, her high-heels clacking on the street.

Fisk merely stood up from where had been sitting, easily towering over the angry woman with his naturally freakish height, he looked fairly intimidating and boy did he know it. His height was always his advantage in circumstances like this; he wondered how long it'd take for her to back down. Leo cowered in his seat, scratching his head and looking over at Jerald hoping he would take notice before something happened. It looked as if Jerald was a bit preoccupied with something else considering he was talking with one of the evac coordinators, which suited Fisk just fine.

"You've been sitting there for the past two hours and doing NOTHING but making that Kid, Me, and Jerald COMPLETELY miserable." God her voice was irritating, high pitched and shreiky like a harpy. "Between your filthy smoking habits, and anti-social behavior, I really hope they get us loaded up and out of here soon because I DO NOT want to be near you any FURTHER." She poked a finger into his chest, her nail digging into his shirt. It kind of hurt a bit. Tessa continued her tirade, "So SHUT UP, because I AM NOT in the MOOD for your BULLCRAP." She stamped a foot carefully so as to not break a heel, as well as to emphasize her point. 'That was such a childish gesture' he noted.

Fisk merely bit his lip and smiled stupidly. '"Whatever bitch." He snorted, glaring down at her and crossing his arms. "I can be as miserable as I want to be, 'cause you ain't likely to last much longer ANYWAY." He stepped forward menacingly but she stood her ground, eyes fixed firmly on his own and frowning intensely. His voice rose, "You think I like sitting here staring at your orange painted ass, twiddling my thumbs and waiting for everything to go to hell?" He pointed at the crowd. "You realize we likely ain't going NO WHERE considering the fucking circumstances?" He stopped in the middle of his rant to cough heavily into his sleeve. Afterwards, He tried to regain his composure of menace, but that failed so he then proceeded with his rant. " You fuckwits are complete strangers, I don't OWE you my kindness, and I sure as hell don't owe anyone anything if the fucking dead are up and walking." He got into her face, lips pulled back in a snarl as he made his final point. "YOU MEAN NOTHING TO ME."

"What's the problem over here?" Jerald asked, his voice commanding and making Fisk lose his focus, "I leave you three alone and everything gets all rough and tumble." Jerald frowned, lifting an eyebrow in Fisk's direction. Fisk looked away and said nothing, he merely felt satisfied in the fact he had said what he'd wanted to say for the last hour. He turned now to face the elder man, narrowing his brown eyes. "It only goes downhill from here old man, you can try to be friends, you can try to play it nice but everything is following different rules now." Fisk ripped off his apron and tossed it on the ground pointing his finger into Jerald's calm passive face. "I won't be nice about THIS…you ain't going to survive this, it only gets worse from here."

They heard the masses screaming first, Then the snarls and shrieks.

It hadn't taken the universe long to prove Fisk correct.

Tessa and Jerald looked around as Leo slowly got up from his seated position. The group froze and stared. The crowd that had been full of perfectly normal people had abruptly been overrun out of the blue by the walking dead, and they were right at the edge of it.

Fisk froze, regretting his words from just moments before. Now was not the time to die. If he was going to die, Fisk had decided he'd rather it not be here.

"Run." He whispered, the other three looked at him with fear frozen on their dipshit faces. "I SAID FUCKING RUN." Were they stupid? He enunciated as clearly as he could, why didn't they listen to him? He grabbed Leo by his jacket's hood and threw him ahead, which caused the boy to instantly pick up the pace and sprint off at a dead run. 'Who knew he had it in him' mused Fisk before turning his attention to the horde that was barreling down upon them with the force of a train and plenty of gnashing teeth to boot. The other two ran behind Leo. Fisk stood, staring the oncoming horde down before taking off to catch up with the others.

They had to find safety, weapons, something to help their survival…. and fast.


	5. Just so folks know!

Hey! Just to let folks know, I am continuing this story! I have chapter five almost done, but sadly school has gotten in the way! We'll be resuming chapters by next week~ Sorry for this! I hope you like it so far. I don't plan on stopping anytime soon, but you know how life is sometimes.

I'll be deleting this message as soon as I start up again. Stay tuned~


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